


Not Our Anniversary

by w_x_2



Series: Pain turns to Gain [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2324153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w_x_2/pseuds/w_x_2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2118840/">"Molding a New Future"</a></p><p>“I don't know when our official anniversary is, but-” Ian trails off as he flicks the thumb and middle finger of his left hand together before pointing out his index finger once more. “There was this time, like, I donno, around about a decade and a half ago, give or take a year or two?” he asks it as an estimation, but if it is that instance then he knows exactly how many years it's been even if not the exact date. “When like, Lip threatened to kill you?” he says in an unsure tone. “Should be coming up, right?” he checks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Our Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me, no harm is intended and no profit is made.  
> A/N: Although this a sequel to 'Molding A New Future' you don't necessarily have to read it, but you should most probably read 'And Let Life Tow', the first in the Pain turns to Gain series, as this one will make much more sense that way.

Mickey is sitting on a chair by the bed with his legs up on the bed as he eats from his cereal bowl and Ian is still in bed with his legs stretched out so that his feet are over Mickey's as he eats his toast, which Mickey had kindly brought him – breakfast in bed – when Ian suddenly _remembers_ and he squints at Mickey. He thinks, and he rethinks, and he squints harder but Mickey is focusing on his cereal and he doesn't notice Ian staring at him so when Ian _realizes_ and suddenly breaks the silence it's unexpected.

 

“You know, I had a dream last night...” Ian rhetorically begins.

 

Mickey looks at him, and arches his eyebrows in a 'go on'.

 

Ian finishes the last bite of his toast and places his plate down on the bed, rubbing his hands against one another above it as he gets rid of the crumbs, “Dreamt that I woke up with your lips on my nipples...”

 

“Only have one set of lips which means I wouldn't be able to get at both at the same time,” Mickey reasons.

 

“Yeah,” Ian agrees, with clean hands he places the dish on the bedside table, out of the way. “And you had your hand around my cock,” he uses a sexy voice and then says, “and you were slamming, and I mean, _slamming_ ,” he enunciates the word quite profoundly, “into me.”

 

And _shit,_ Mickey coughs, the cereal going down the wrong hole. He has to get his feet off the bed, cereal bowl finding its way onto the edge of the nearest surface and Ian has to sit up and slap him on his back to get him to breathe properly again.

 

“Fuck,” Mickey croaks out with tears in his eyes.

 

After he sits back, _feeling_ the proof, Ian doesn't wait for Mickey to recover any further before he continues. “You asked me if it was okay when it was clear I'd woken up, which I answered yes to. And then, after we had both come, which by the way didn't take very long,” he says with a finger in the air in order to point out the fact. “I dreamt you had cleaned my stomach and my ass,” he frowns looking at Mickey as the blackhead adjusts himself on his chair. “Which is weird, because you pulled out, but for some reason you were cleaning some of the spunk which had dribbled out of my hole.”

 

Mickey closes his eyes, glad he's not eating at the moment, because well, _fuck._

 

When Mickey finally opens his eyes, Ian is looking at him. “Anyway, you kissed me, told me you loved me and you spooned me, _cuddled_ with me, and we fell asleep like that,” he finishes. “Weird,” Ian comments. “Right?” Ian asks. “I mean, you've only fucked me the once before, when I came back. Maybe my body is just unconsciously asking for it, eh?” he teases.

 

And Mickey remains quiet, unsure of what he should say.

 

“No comment?” Ian asks.

 

Mickey gulps. “Gotta be a special occasion,” Mickey finally answers. “Guess you'll have to wait for one, eh?”

 

“Yeah,” Ian answers and he nods his head.

 

Mickey picks up his cereal bowl again, unsure whether or not he wants to eat anymore.

 

“I don't know when our official anniversary is, but-” Ian trails off as he flicks the thumb and middle finger of his left hand together before pointing out his index finger once more. “There was this time, like, I donno, around about a decade and a half ago, give or take a year or two?” he asks it as an estimation, but if it _is_ that instance then he knows exactly how many years it's been even if not the exact date. “When like, Lip threatened to kill you?” he says in an unsure tone. “Should be coming up, right?” he checks.

 

“I donno what you talking about,” Mickey answers as he puts the bowl down once more having decided that actually no, he doesn't want anymore. Ian scoots over to him, moving his feet up to Mickey's lap, preventing him from getting up straight away.

 

“It was that day, when you snuck into my room and told me you'd like to be able to tell me what I wanted to hear but you couldn't.” Ian clears his throat. “Said I deserved to have a good life, be happy. That I would enjoy my life and that it would stop hurting,” he murmurs the last bit so much so Mickey has to strain to hear it even though he's pretending to not be that interested. “You said that I had to let you go?” Ian questions at the end, like it'll jog something in Mickey's memory.

 

“Since you've come back, you have a really deep sleep,” Mickey finally comments, avoiding the direct question but answering the broader one. “Have no fucking clue _how_ because you were in a bloody war zone and you were able to wake up at the drop of a pin, but now you could sleep through the house falling down.”

 

“Unless _you_ call my name,” Ian adds.

 

“Yeah,” Mickey answers. “Stupid really.” He doesn't mention the _what if_ Mickey isn't there to wake Ian up because if Mickey isn't by Ian's side then Ian's sleep isn't deep, at all.

 

“I know you'll wake me up if I need to,” Ian reveals.

 

“Like I said, stupid,” Mickey repeats.

 

“It's one sure way of waking me up though,” Ian says. “You saying my name,” Ian smiles. “Or even just, I donno,” he shrugs his shoulders. “If you moan it?”

 

 _Little shit_ , Mickey thinks fondly. “I think we missed that day already,” Mickey comments, “So I can fuck you now,” he offers.

 

“Yeah?” Ian asks, but he's already standing up and moving to straddle Mickey's lap.

 

“Yeah,” Mickey answers as he grabs onto Ian's ass.

 

Ian kisses Mickey, eyes open and all as they stare at each other until Mickey finally gets his hands inside the loose fabric of Ian's shorts and rubs Ian's hole with an index finger. Ian lowers down, towards the finger, and it slips in with a moan from both men.

 

“You're wet and all,” Mickey comments. “Loose,” he says exploring. “All ready for me.”

 

Ian waits for Mickey to press another finger inside before saying, “I guess I could make up an excuse like I fingered myself thinking about it while you went to get us breakfast,” he says. “But then again, I think I just had a _really_ vivid dream...” Ian comments as he thrusts down to get Mickey's fingers into him further.

 

Mickey doesn't say anything, but instead starts up a fast pace with his fingers.

 

It doesn't deter Ian though. “A vivid dream... where your dream part was a bit silly and left evidence behind inside my ass instead of _actually_ pulling out and cleaning up the mess.”

 

Mickey slowly slides in another finger but Ian reaches back, pulls his shorts down enough to uncover his ass and grabs Mickey's wrist, lifting off of his hand and holding it at bay as with his other hand he grabs Mickey's cock and holds it still long enough to sink down on it.

 

And gosh, he should have done that a tiny bit slower, but fuck it, a little bit of pain is good too.

 

Mickey moans but says, “Slower.”

 

“I'm plenty stretched,” Ian says. “Dream-you had the same length and girth as the real you does.”

 

Mickey scoffs as he grabs Ian's hips when he starts to move too early without giving himself time to adjust.

 

“Dream-me fucked you four hours ago, and you don't bottom, you can't just expect to be ready for a pounding so soon without proper stretching and some more lube,” Mickey says. “Just come is not enough,” he adds.

 

Ian exhales through his mouth and rolls his eyes but knows it's true so he asks, “Where did dream-you throw the lube when he was done with it?”

 

“Uh,” Mickey says as he looks around the room.

 

Ian looks at him expectantly and Mickey finally spots the lid peaking out from under his pillow.

 

“Pillow,” he says.

 

“Why didn't dream-you throw it on the floor like you do when it's you prepping yourself?” Ian rhetorically asks. “It would have been closer! Now I have to get up,” Ian protests as he does so, slowly. “Stay there,” he says when he lifts up and back onto the bed. “Dream-you already took his turn, now it's mine,” Ian promises in a sultry tone as he gets onto his hands and knees on the bed and stretches his hand to get at the lube under the pillow.

 

Mickey moans as he sees Ian's red, swollen pucker. “Dream-me fucked you in your dreams,” Mickey rasps. “It don't count.”

 

Ian turns towards him, lube in hand, and with a 'is that so?' question in his expression.

 

Mickey doesn't answer. “Get over here,” Mickey says instead, trying to keep the pleading from his voice when Ian stays on the bed. When Ian is finally straddling him once more after taking his shorts off completely, Mickey grabs the lube from Ian's hand. “Let me,” he says.

 

“Don't trust me?”

 

Mickey coats three fingers with a generous amount of lube and grabs Ian's hip with his other hand, keeping him still. “Dream-me lubed you slowly,” he says. “Very thoroughly.” He slips a finger inside Ian, ever so slowly, finding him just as loose but taking his time. “I like pain, but I bottom frequently,” Mickey says. “You, young grasshopper, need proper prepping.” Mickey adds another finger. “Especially because you wanna take your turn,” Mickey adds as he scissors his fingers and Ian thrusts down.

 

“Come on, Mickey,” Ian moans.

 

“Can't have you ripping or being in pain,” Mickey murmurs as he kisses Ian's neck and adds another finger.

 

He lingers there for a while because even though Ian is stretched enough, he loves the feeling of Ian's muscles around him.

 

When he finally takes out his fingers he makes sure to hold Ian up in a sure grip and then he pours some lube over his cock, throws the bottle on the bed and slicks up his cock, pumping it once and then twice with his free hand.

 

Ian grabs the wrist of the hand Mickey has on his hip in order to keep Ian still and tightens his own hold until Mickey's fingers loosen. Then he places his other hand over Mickey's hand at the base of Mickey's cock and lowers himself until his crease touches Mickey's tip and then sinks down.

 

Head moving forward until he crashes his lips against Mickey's so that he won't protest.

 

When he's as far down as he can, he takes his hand away from Mickey's cock, bringing Mickey's hand with his and sinks down to the base until he's resting on Mickey, thighs against thighs.

 

Mickey nips Ian's bottom lip but Ian bites back, kissing him as he brings his body back up and then down again.

 

Both men moan and Ian starts up a rhythm.

 

Mickey is unable to break the kiss until he thrusts up when Ian comes down, slamming hard into him as Ian moans loudly and gasps.

 

Mickey brings his and Ian's hand up to his own neck and gets Ian to place it there for leverage as he bring his own hand down once more and wraps his arm around Ian's back, hand grasping his side just above his other hand still holding Ian's hip.

 

“Fuck,” Mickey moans as Ian thrusts down harder. “You're gonna be so sore,” he comments into the crook of Ian's neck.

 

Ian laughs, attaching his lips to Mickey's neck to leave a mark there before saying, “ _Gooood_ sore.” Ian enunciates. “Th-That's what... you... al _-fuck_ -ways say-ee,” he adds.

 

Mickey laughs with him for a moment but thrusts up the next time that Ian comes down which elicits a moan from the redhead, so he does it again, building up a rhythm to help Ian hit his prostrate, and bring him more pleasure. They both pant and become sweatier as they leave trails of kisses, sucks and bites with their mouths over every available surface and with their hands leave finger and hand shaped bruises, gripping tighter and tighter as their pleasure heightens until they are both tensing and seeking their orgasms.

 

Mickey moves the hand grabbing Ian's hip down to Ian's cock even with Ian's hand still wrapped around his wrist and strokes as best he can until Ian is mewling in his lap and arching his back, neck moving backwards as he comes and grinds down on Mickey's cock with his ass muscles clenching sporadically around Mickey's cock and Mickey leans forward and closes his teeth around Ian's neck as he thrusts his hips a few last times and comes inside Ian.

 

When he finishes coming Mickey leans his body forward, onto Ian's and with a last bit of energy then lifts on his feet and drops them both on the bed so that they can enjoy their afterglow wrapped in one another with Mickey still inside Ian.

 

“Was it yesterday?” Ian finally asks in a sleepy voice under Mickey.

 

Mickey doesn't answer straight away, burrows into the crook of Ian's neck until both his lips and nose are against Ian's marked skin. “Yeah,” Mickey finally admits.

 

“Oh,” Ian breathes, it had been a guess, he hadn't actually _known_. He turns his head slightly towards Mickey and drops a kiss on his neck. “Thank you,” he says softly.

 

“Thank dream-me,” Mickey says with a smile which Ian can hear in his voice and feels against his neck.

 

“We'll have to let dream-you come out to play more often.”

 

Mickey's cock valiantly twitches but doesn't do anything more than that because he's way too exhausted.

 

“Bet you left a bigger mark than I left on you,” Ian comments.

 

“Well,” Mickey clears his throat as he lifts his head to look at the mark. Ian facilitates him by turning his head away and exposing his neck. The mark is quite big, looks bigger than the one Ian had left on Mickey's own neck but that might be just because Mickey did it more horizontal rather than diagonal, which means it spans over to the front of Ian's neck, right by his Adam's Apple. But the indent of Mickey's teeth isn't as red nor as vivid, which means the bite isn't as deep and won't last even half the time on Ian's neck as the one Ian had left on Mickey's neck had lasted way back then. “It's payback.”

 

Ian chuckles and feels for the cover, slowly pulling it over them with Mickey's help.

 


End file.
